Bonus Tracks
by Suspicious Popsicle
Summary: Stories to follow up Mix Tape
1. Play

A/N: This takes place a couple days after "Stage Dive." There will be more shorts. The set seems to have taken on a life of its own.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from _Tales of Vesperia_ and do not belong to me.

* * *

Flynn arrived home on Sunday evening, worn out from a two-day family reunion marked by his mother's cold and constant disapproval. The support of his extended family had helped to some degree, but it had been a trying weekend. He was starting to accept that Yuri had been right, that there wouldn't be a mending of bridges between his mother and himself. Wearily, he hefted his duffle bag off the seat and headed for the door.

There was music playing inside the house. He could only just barely hear it from outside on the porch but, once inside, he recognized a halting version of "The Devil's Trill" being played on piano. It was coming from Yuri's room. Quietly, he set his bag down, stepped out of his shoes, and headed for the golden spill of light from his open door.

Yuri was perched on his stool before his keyboard, fingers jumping over the keys. He had a pen tucked behind his ear, and a handwritten sheet of music on the stand. He kept playing even with Flynn standing in the doorway.

As he tripped over a succession of notes, he asked, without looking up, "What's this one called?"

"You don't know what you're playing?"

"I've heard you playing it. Thought it might translate over well."

"You're close, but your tempo is off." He barely suppressed a wince as a phrase Yuri hadn't remembered correctly played out in contrast to the proper progression of the song. "Not to mention that you're missing a few notes. Move over. I'll show you."

He was across the room in a moment, practically knocking Yuri off his seat as he reached for the keys. He knew the right notes, and the score scribbled from memory wasn't too far off, but between the unfamiliar instrument and the need to correct as he played, his fingers fumbled over the keys. He didn't get far before Yuri shoved him back with a brief laugh.

"Get off my keyboard! You've got your violin, if you wanna play!"

His hands knocked into Flynn's, jumping ahead through the melody. The song lost what coherency it had as they switched between anticipating what came next and trying to play as one. It didn't help that neither was particularly adept at piano, or that they were pushing at each other with shoulders or hips. They'd given up actually sitting on the stool, and stood bent and hovering over it as they shoved against each other. All interest in the keyboard slipped away as each tried to knock the other out of the way to take pride of place. Jostled by the contest, the keyboard shook, the stool was in danger of tipping over, and their feet skidded over the carpet. Something had to give.

In the end, what gave was Yuri. Abruptly, he fell over sideways and, caught unprepared, Flynn went with him. He was pretty sure Yuri had done it on purpose. They'd landed mostly on the bed, and Yuri was warm and solid beneath him. Laughing a little over their scuffle, he was completely at ease with how Flynn was making no move to get off of him. Reaching up, he ruffled Flynn's hair as if petting Repede.

"Welcome home," he said. There was genuine warmth in his eyes that made the disappointment of the reunion seem far less important than it had not ten minutes ago.

The pressure of his hand changed as his fingers slipped through Flynn's hair, around to the back of his skull. Yuri pulled him down and Flynn felt something hard flick across his lips before they parted. He sank readily into the kiss, careful to be tender after having learned not to play _too_ rough while Yuri had his piercing in. Still, it was difficult sometimes feeling it passing between them like a prize he could never win. Groaning, he settled in closer, thumbs stroking lightly over Yuri's cheekbones. It hadn't even been two full days since he'd left. He shouldn't be so overwhelmed.

Laughing softly, Yuri turned his head away and Flynn sucked gently as the piercing slipped past his lips. He sighed and realized his breath had quickened. The undershirt and button down he wore felt impossibly warm as Yuri grinned up at him.

"Miss me?" Flynn managed.

"Parts of you, at least." He grabbed Flynn's ass and gave him a squeeze.

In retaliation, Flynn rolled them over until Yuri was straddling him, then smacked his thigh hard enough to be sure it would sting a little through the jeans. He rubbed over the spot, massaging, hand creeping higher. Yuri's eyes glittered down at him. His smile had sharpened, taken on a hungry edge.

"Barely in the door and already trying to start something," he murmured. Silver flashed against his lips.

"You're the one who pulled me into bed."

Shifting over top of him, Yuri leaned down for another round of playful kisses. His hands stroked down Flynn's sides. The shirts had to go.

This time, it was Flynn who broke the kiss. He threaded his fingers through Yuri's hair, pushing it back from his face and letting his hand come to rest curled loosely on the side of his neck, a gentle signal to wait a moment.

"You're a bad influence, you know?"

"Sure." He agreed with a grin. "Any reason in particular?"

"I brought you something. Stole it, actually."

"Oh, yeah?" He sat back and let Flynn reach into a pocket.

"They had a piñata for the kids." He pulled out a strip of black satin. "I brought the blindfold home."

'Eager' didn't do Yuri's grin justice. "Feeling playful?" He pressed forward unreservedly, offering up his trust in an easy heartbeat.

Flynn let the blindfold slip through his fingers. They would get to it eventually. He brushed Yuri's hair back away from his face and kissed him, no longer amazed that they'd come to this point, but grateful all the same. He shivered as Yuri left open-mouthed kisses down his neck, allowing the piercing to slip pearl-smooth over his skin each time.

"You know…" Yuri mused. His voice was low and rough and Flynn shivered again, desirous little sparks shooting through him, exciting him. "…we could've used one of your ties." His tongue skated along the length of Flynn's collarbone. "Then you could've avoided becoming a criminal mastermind for my sake."

"Hadn't thought of that." It was getting a little difficult to think of anything aside from the sensation of Yuri's mouth sucking at his skin and the incongruous press of metal. "Don't usually look at ties and think 'light bondage.'"

"Mmm?" The vibration sunk into Flynn's skin, riding along with his pulse. "Sounds like a challenge. You heard of Pavlov's dogs?"

He felt the slippery fabric of the blindfold twined around Yuri's hand slide over his fingers. Should've known suggesting something like that could only lead to trouble. Smiling, he grabbed the trailing ends and wrapped his hand around Yuri's. He could handle a little trouble.


	2. Homecoming

A/N: Something like a filler episode, I suppose, or a fill-in episode, rather. This takes place just after "Crossroads."

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from _Tales of Vesperia_ and do not belong to me.

* * *

"Pull over," Yuri demanded suddenly.

"Why?"

They were approaching an ancient gas station next to some sort of ramshackle roadside café. The tank was still nearly half full. They could make it back into Zaphias, easy.

"I wanna let Repede out to stretch his legs and get some water. Besides, I'm hungry."

"You ate half a dozen s'mores before we left."

Despite his objection, Flynn pulled into the parking lot in front of the little restaurant. After last night, he'd been expecting an uncomfortably silent morning ride back down the mountain. Instead, they'd slipped with surprising ease back into the bickering banter than had somehow become second nature. There had been little spikes of animosity, of bitterness and regret, but Flynn had swallowed them down before they could spoil the trip any further. The sun had been setting before they had finally packed up their things and started on their way back home.

Well, not home. Back to the city. Back to the house Flynn would be moving out of the next day.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax when he noticed how tightly he was gripping the wheel. The way Yuri had asked that question last night so casually was still infuriating. Who was he to go dangling false hope after Flynn had finally made up his mind to leave? It was cruel.

Flynn put the car in park and turned off the engine. He wasn't even unbuckled before Yuri was climbing out and reaching for the back door. Repede hopped down and Yuri poured some of their bottled water into a bowl for him. He leaned against the side of the car as Flynn walked around to join him.

"So…" Yuri said eventually. "…is it too late to ask you out?"

It took a moment of perfect stillness for Flynn to conquer the impulse to strike him. When he felt he could react without violence, he turned his head to look at Yuri. He'd thought they had finished this discussion last night. He'd _thought_ Yuri had realized how selfish even bringing it up in the first place had been. Maybe the camping trip had been a mistake. They should have just kept avoiding each other until Monday when it wouldn't matter anymore.

"We had this talk last night."

Low and raw, his own voice surprised him. He'd accepted the fact that Yuri didn't want him. Last night, he'd even confirmed it. It seemed, however, that accepting a fact was not the same as being all right with the reality. He couldn't stand the thought that Yuri might now be toying with him.

"We had _a_ talk." He scuffed his boot against the asphalt. "I did some thinking. I think…maybe…it would be worth it to try."

With a growl of frustration, Flynn spun and slammed his hands down on the roof of his car. It didn't make him feel any better, and Yuri didn't even flinch. Swearing, he did it again.

"It doesn't work that way. You can't expect me to just undo all my preparations to move because of some…some stupid whim of yours! I swear, you are the most selfish—"

"I'm not asking you to stay. Move out or don't—it's up to you." He met Flynn's eyes finally, and his expression was perfectly serious. "You answered my question last night, though. You could've just told me to fuck off, but you didn't."

Heaving a sigh, Flynn rubbed a hand over his face. That _had_ been stupid. It hadn't been anything as simple as hope that had compelled him to speak, more like a perverse need to force Yuri to admit out loud that there was no way things could ever work out between them. He could've had closure. He could've moved on.

"Why are you doing this _now_?"

"I told you: I did some thinking last night about…some things. I realized I wanted to give it a shot."

"No." Shaking his head, he turned away. "No, you had plenty of time to decide I was worth it. I gave you plenty of chances."

Take a shot. Right. Line up the cue and break the set. See if, in the resulting chaos, any of the balls actually found their way into a pocket. No real plan, just shake things up and see what they were left to work with. It suited Yuri, who still looked so damn _calm_. Flynn shifted restlessly beside him. There was no reason he should have to give Yuri another chance, no reason to let himself get yanked around like that.

"Give _what_ a shot, exactly?" The question burst out of him against his better judgment.

He wasn't going to end up like Crash; some fuck buddy that Yuri could cast off without a second thought. He would sever their connection for good _himself_ before letting it come to that.

"You said it, didn't you?" Yuri cast his gaze out over the nearly deserted parking lot. "Something real."

"And just like that, you're prepared to give me everything I asked for?"

"I'm prepared to try." Flynn scoffed and caught the first crack in Yuri's mask, a flicker of consternation. "I gave _you_ a chance when you wanted to try learning about metal."

"This isn't the same!"

"It isn't all that different."

Had he finally understood, then? Flynn remembered all but confessing to him the night Dragon Swarm had played at ZaFest. 'If I get into metal, it will be because of you.' That was what he had said: that he would try to embrace the metal scene because it was important to Yuri. Was that what Yuri was doing now? Agreeing to act like they were in a relationship—no matter what he personally felt—because it was the only way? Was he just trying to keep Flynn from leaving?

"Are you just asking me this to get me to stay?"

With a scowl, Yuri pushed away from the car and turned his back on Flynn. "Do what you want. I'm gonna walk Repede."

"Yuri, answer my question!"

Forgetting about the way Yuri's anger could erupt so quickly, Flynn grabbed his arm. Instantly, Yuri rounded on him, swatting his hand away so roughly that Flynn worried briefly that he might have injured his wrist. He stared Yuri down and repeated in a measured tone: "Answer my question."

"Stay, go, it's up to you." Yuri threw his arms out, but he seemed to toss away much of that sudden rage with the gesture. "It's not my job to tell you where to live. I'm not going to ask you to stay someplace where you aren't happy."

He turned away again, whistling for Repede. This time, Flynn didn't reach out.

"Your timing almost couldn't be worse," he said, watching as Yuri hesitated. "…but, no, it's not too late."

Had he ever seen that surprised expression on Yuri's face before? He didn't think so. He'd have remembered the incredulity that widened his eyes and left his mouth slack. He'd never seen Yuri suddenly find himself unsure of where to look. He nodded stiffly, eyes on the ground, turned half away again.

"Let me walk Repede real quick. I'll buy us dinner."

Flynn nodded back, though Yuri didn't see it. He took the few steps back to his car and sagged against the hood.

They were dating now, right? Wasn't that what had just happened? Yuri had asked if it was too late, and Flynn had told him no, it wasn't. Yuri had said he would try. He'd said it wasn't just about keeping Flynn from moving out. They were…together? Just like that?

He was supposed to be meeting someone about moving into the apartment with him the day after tomorrow. He'd have to cancel, take down the notice, let the complex know. He was going to have to unpack all his things.

He was going to have to hope like hell this sudden interest on Yuri's part wasn't temporary.

Flynn wasn't sure if he'd just gotten a lucky break or made a huge mistake.

While Yuri was seemingly back to normal by the time he returned, Flynn was still trying to think things through. He watched as Yuri dumped out the last of the water from Repede's bowl—Were his hands shaking just a little?—and saw the dog settled comfortably in the back seat with the windows down to let in the cool, evening air. Yuri jammed his hands into his pockets as they walked into the little restaurant. He wasn't looking at Flynn outright, but rather sneaking glances every now and again, making for awkward moments when they both did it at the same time. He barely glanced at the menu above the window before ordering, and honored his offer to pay for both their meals. As they sat down across from each other with their Styrofoam drink cups and awkward silence, the reality that this constituted their very first date hit home hard and Flynn blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You realize that if we're going to be dating, it means you can't see Crash any more, right?"

Yuri looked up very slowly to meet his eyes, and Flynn could have bitten his own tongue off.

"That didn't come out right."

"No shit."

"I mean, you're not going to keep sleeping with him, obviously."

"Obviously," Yuri agreed, but there was an edge to his voice and his eyes were focused and none too friendly.

"So, if you aren't sleeping with him…."

"Be real careful finishing that thought," he advised. "I was friends with Crash for years before we became _fuck buddies_."

He bristled at Yuri's tone. "Look, it isn't unreasonable to not like the idea of you hanging out with him."

"What? You saying you can't _trust_ me?"

"Are you saying you don't care how _I_ feel having to watch the two of you together?" Flynn shot back. "Because I know you never did before!"

"I'm not gonna fuck him if I'm going out with you!"

The waitress arrived just then with their plates, and Flynn bit back the tide of bitter retaliation. He stared at the chipped veneer of the tabletop, face burning, and mumbled a thank you before the woman left. Across from him, he heard a crunch as Yuri took a bite of some deep fried vegetable or other.

Picking up his fork to poke at his pot roast, Flynn tried to come up with something to say, something that wouldn't escalate the argument. It wasn't a very good sign that they hadn't even made it ten minutes into their first date before having their first fight. Something about that thought struck him motionless for several seconds. An involuntary smile fought its way through to turn up the corners of his mouth. He nearly managed to repress a laugh before he made the mistake of looking up to catch Yuri's quizzical frown. At that point, he knew he was fighting a losing battle, and let the laughter come, soft but unyielding. When it had run its course after a few minutes and a couple of relapses due to the confused—even concerned—looks Yuri was shooting at him, Flynn settled back in his seat and offered a crooked smile.

"We just had our first fight."

"We fight all the damn time. You thought that would change?"

Yuri hadn't caught it, then. Flynn wasn't completely surprised by that, really. The fight hadn't been the important part. The important part was that he had thought of it as their _first_ fight on their _first_ date, 'first' meaning he expected there to be more, which meant his subconscious wasn't concerned enough about Crash to end this craziness before it had really gotten started. Who was he to argue with himself?

He was still smiling faintly as he asked: "I can trust you, right?"

"Long as I can trust you."

The words surprised him more than they should have. He hadn't stopped to think that Yuri was risking himself as well, and he paused to consider that. Had Yuri ever dated anyone seriously before? There was still a lot they didn't know about each other.

Yuri was still eyeing him suspiciously. "Are we good?"

Close enough. They could always argue about it later. Flynn reached across the table and snatched up one of the roundish, flaky things Yuri had been eating. It was a vegetable deep fried past all recognition and tasted salty-sweet on his tongue.

"Now we're good."

"Eat your own damn food, you ass!"

In retaliation, Yuri speared a bite of his pot roast and gobbled it down. The argument that had fizzled out was replaced by a series of minor thefts from each other's plates as they shared their first meal together.

* * *

It was pitch black by the time Flynn pulled into the driveway. Yuri let Repede out of the car and grabbed everything he could carry, nearly overburdening himself in his determination to avoid making a second trip out. Flynn fumbled his key between the load he carried and the lack of illumination, but finally got them in the door. They lumbered into the dining room and began setting things down. As soon as his hands were free, Yuri started toward the back door to let Repede out before bed. On his way past, he reached up to ruffle Flynn's hair.

"Welcome home."

There was a smile in those words, and more warmth than he would have ever expected. Looking over the mess of camping supplies, Flynn decided it could all be left for the morning. He headed for his barren room and the stacked boxes that contained most of the belongings that he'd brought with him from his mother's house or purchased over the past few months. Unpacking could wait as well.

He went straight for his desk where his violin case lay waiting. Flipping the catches, he lifted the instrument out and, smiling, began to play.


End file.
